


Romantic Evening

by Baroness_Blixen



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M, X-Files OctoberFicFest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-17
Updated: 2016-10-17
Packaged: 2018-08-23 01:14:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8308111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Baroness_Blixen/pseuds/Baroness_Blixen
Summary: “I hope you’re hungry, Scully,” Mulder greeted her with a quick kiss and closed the door behind her, “because I’m cooking.” Set in season 7, most likely.





	

“I hope you’re hungry, Scully,” Mulder greeted her with a quick kiss and closed the door behind her, “because I’m cooking.”

“Actually, Mulder-”

“Don’t tell me you already ate at the morgue.” Disappointment washed over his face. He’d been planning this romantic evening for days. After weeks of mutants, wannabe-monsters and general crazy people, they deserved a night to themselves. Scully had left early this morning for, as she referred to it, an autopsy marathon. Mulder hadn’t paid attention when she’d explained it to him, but really that had been her own fault; she couldn’t expect him to fully listen when she told him something in bed, stark naked and nuzzling his chest. He was just a man after all.

“No, I didn’t. I’m just really tired.” She leaned against him heavily, her head on his chest. He hugged her to him, holding her close. Breathing in her scent he was happy she had decided to shower at the morgue. He smelled vanilla and something fruity, maybe cherry.

“Mulder, are you sniffling me?” Scully mumbled against his chest and lifted her head to look at him.

“Sorry, I was thinking of dessert.” He grinned.

“What’s for dinner anyway?”

“Oh, you’re in for a treat, Scully,” he gently led her over to his couch and sat her down, “you’re going to love it. It’s an old family recipe.”

“You’re not going to tell me?” She asked, drawing her feet up on the couch to get more comfortable.

“No, it’s a surprise.” He leaned over and gave her another kiss, this time lingering on her lips. That was another thing they hadn’t had much time for these last few weeks.

“Then go make sure the food doesn’t burn.” She whispered against his lips and he broke their contact with a soft chuckle.

“I bet you thought I couldn’t cook,” His voice carried over from the kitchen as Scully looked for a magazine, a book, anything that would keep her awake long enough to actually have dinner, “or have actual utensils to prepare food in.”

She heard him chuckle again and couldn’t help but smile. Scully finally settled on an old National Geographic magazine with a huge, unidentifiable stain on it. Some of the pages stuck together, but it was still better than having to read about conspiracies or alien abductions. Or his X-rated entertainment. Though she hadn’t seen any of it in a long, long time. Scully made a mental note to ask him about it some time. For the time being she tried to concentrate on reading about frogs mating.

“As I said it’s a family recipe,” Mulder went on in the kitchen, “my grandmother Mulder was a wonderful cook. She never quite understood why my mother found no pleasure in it. She would always bring over chicken soup when Sam or I were sick.”

“That’s nice.” Scully threw in just to let him know that she was listening to him. She kept reading the same two sentences over and over again. Either the mating rituals of these frogs were incredibly complicated or Scully’s brain had given up and gone to sleep. Her eyes, she realized, were about to do the same. She tried to keep them open, to read (even if it was the same sentence again), but they burned with exhaustion. Maybe if she closed them for just a moment…

“Yeah, she was great like that. You’re going to love this, Scully, really. I know I don’t cook as well as my grandmother or your mother, but this will be good.” With her eyes closed, Mulder’s voice sounded even more beautiful; all of this seemed like a lovely, domestic dream. Mulder in the kitchen, who would have thought? The idea amused her as she felt herself slipping away, falling into a blissful slumber.

“Scully, you’ve got to try this. It’s not done just yet, but you have to – Scully?” Mulder crouched down in front of the couch, spoon in hand and just looked at her sleeping form. The magazine dangled dangerously from her hand and he took it to put it back on the coffee table. The spoon went with it and he didn’t care if it left any more stains. He gently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

“I guess it’ll taste just as good when it’s reheated.” Mulder whispered and leaned forward to gently kiss her cheek.

“Hm?” Scully mumbled without opening her eyes.

“You fell asleep on me.” He told her, smiling. He could watch her sleep all day. It was his new favorite thing to do.

“Sorry.” She mumbled. “Is dinner ready?”

“Dinner will wait. Come on, time for bed.”

“But… dinner?” She still hadn’t opened her eyes.

“Later.” Mulder disappeared into the kitchen, looked at this efforts for a short regretful moment, and then turned off the stove. That particular romantic evening had to wait. Scully still hadn’t moved when he reappeared. Mulder picked her up easily and instinctively she put her hands around his neck.

“What’s happening?”

“Bed.” He whispered against her temple and she nodded sleepily. Mulder doubted she would remember any of this later. He didn’t undress her as he put her down and lay down next to her. He knew she would wake up at some point, grumble about having fallen asleep with make-up on and without having brushed her teeth.

“I love you.” He told her. There was no answer, but he didn’t expect one. He would just tell her again in the morning.


End file.
